


Rosemary

by AlasPoorYorcake



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: But mostly angst, Comedy, Gen, Maybe happy ending?, WIP (west in peace), likely to be WIP forever, lotsa angst, maybe no character death?, maybe will get an ending eventually?, puns, self-indulgent longfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlasPoorYorcake/pseuds/AlasPoorYorcake
Summary: After the argument with Batman, Robin escapes Gotham and tends to his new team at Jump City. But when word arrives that Batman has been putting more criminals in the hospital than in Arkham, it's up to Robin to find out what's wrong with his ex-mentor in time to unravel the plan that all of the villains of Gotham have been teaming up to execute. Gen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any portion of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

_ “Stay down. You’re not well yet.” _

It was dark inside the room. The lights were dimmed to a squint, slivers of bare moonlight leaked in, and the stars above were blanketed by low-hanging storm clouds, their rain tapping a steady tattoo on the uncovered windows. The lone figure in the room coughed harshly, unable to double over to soften the blow. His hands curled into fists and pulled at the restraints over them, rattling the cold metal slab he was tied to. The rain momentarily subsided, breaking through his thoughts and unearthing buried memories.

_ “I won’t have you killed, Robin!” _

His teeth clenched in irritation, fingers clawed at the leather restraints, eyes shut against the plastering light of the screen behind him, blurting out his vitals. He squirmed against his constraints with his grinding teeth and working throat, hoping to distract himself from the memories that his drugged brain was dredging up. The rain persisted, pattering against the window, but it was of no use as a distraction.

_ “Dick? ...No. No, no, no… ” _

A flash of lightning from the window behind him streaked across his closed eyelids, branding the shadow of a defined figure on his irises. Pointed ears, slitted eyes, all too familiar. His throat, blocked by his heart climbing up the lining, growled in a vague echo of the thunder rolling through the sky, sending a warning to his thoughts.

_ “Do something! Help him!” _

His eyes, a baby blue protected behind a domino mask, snapped open at the electronic hiss of a mechanical door sliding sideways. He couldn’t quite help the flinch as the hallway’s artificial light blinded him and a solitary figure stepped forward.

_ “You’re fired.” _

Footsteps echoed throughout the room for a brief moment, and a flash of lightning accompanied the faint memory of his pained scream, before the rain was cut off by a soft voice.

“How are you holding up?” 

It was hard to see in the dark without squinting, especially after his recent incursion with the hallucinatory Slade, but the darker fabric outline was easier to see, even if it was more out of anticipation than actual sight. He slouched sideways, his normally towering figure displaced. As a result, the Dark Knight effect seemed insignificant, banal almost. His voice was higher than normal, acute stress most definitely the main trigger. 

Robin, of course, knew this from experience. He’d had enough slip-ups with the Joker to know when the Batman was on edge.

“I’d be better if you’d let me out of here,” the Boy Wonder refuted, tightening his fists around his leather cuffs pointedly. His glare, like his normal focused frown, fit his face terrifyingly well. His anger only grew as Batman made no move to help.

“We can’t,” the Dark Knight replied stonily. “The drugs haven’t vacated your system, we can’t be sure if you’d be stable yet - ”

“You mean you don’t want to let me out before you’re sure I won’t attack anyone,” the sidekick reiterated. There was a solemn pause before Robin heaved a sigh and hung his head. “Meaning you haven’t found a cure.”

“...Yet. We still have tests being completed,” Batman began. “There’s still a chance we can synthesize a cure from what - ”

“There won’t be time,” Robin cut in impatiently, his voice cold and resigned. “You know it, I know it, she knows it. I’m degenerating faster than your tests can keep up… ” He looked up at his old mentor with something like sympathy. “No one would blame you if you let me go, Bruce. Just let me take the deal - ”

“We have time!” Batman insisted, his voice rising to an uncharacteristic waver.

“You’ve barely got two weeks!” Robin matched his volume, revealing the desperation he had kept at bay. A moment later his voice was softer, the intensity remaining but audibly harnessed. “And I’ve barely got two months.”

There was another pause, neither party quite sure of what to say, neither content with the pattering rain filling the silence, nor willing to speak should it strain the already thick tension in the air. At last, Robin sucked in a deep breath, making a visible attempt to rein in his anger. It was as close as they were going to get to a truce.

“Is this  _ really _ the path you want to take? You, trying in vain to come up with a cure until you die, while I’m left with a permanent death sentence? That’s how you want to leave Alfred, leave Batgirl, disappoint this city?” The only reaction he received was his mentor’s frown deepening. “You took up a responsibility when you took on that cape and cowl. Let me go. Take the deal. I’ll be fine.” 

_ I’ll be normal again.  _ That was really what this was about. Returning everything to normal. No matter how much Batman wanted to pretend everything was normal, they simply didn’t have any time left. Any aspirations of normalcy went straight out the window long ago, and they both knew it. 

As it was, Robin wasn’t sure he was capable of being normal, and if he was, it probably wouldn’t clash well with the poison in his system. The Joker loved putting gimmicks into his tricks, usually deadly ones, and he definitely hadn’t failed this time. Ironically enough, Robin  _ would _ kill to hear anything close to laughter right about now.

Batman, though he allowed a moment for contemplation, didn’t seem to find any humor in the situation. He shook his bowed head, either a remorseful or resigned gesture, and turned his back on his protege - his partner. The mechanical doors hissed open, and Batman’s silhouette projected clearly against the only light bleeding into the room.

“Even if there was a chance she could save you, Dick,” Batman uttered in an echo of his usual self, “I can’t risk that she might do the opposite.”

In contrast to Batman’s well-meant statement, if he thought Robin was going to lay down and take it, he was more delusional than Robin was at the moment. Temper fraying, the Boy Wonder snarled, “I have a right to decide what happens to me! I’m  _ not _ your responsibility, not anymore! ...And I’m not your son. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Batman turned slightly, hiding his expression in the shadows as the light mocked his figure on the opposite wall. “Maybe,” he conceded softly, an unidentifiable tone coating his words. “But I’m still your guardian. The deal’s off. ...Get some rest.” And, with a last whisper, he left the room. “I’m sorry.”

The ensuing silence that plagued Robin’s ears was even worse than the scream that tore from his throat. He bucked against his restraints and twisted in ways that normally would have contorted him into inhuman positions. At last, the restraints pulled and gave a sharp snap, and Robin collapsed onto his hands and knees in exhaustion, clenching his teeth hard enough to start a ringing in his ears. It was through these clenched teeth and raw throat that he whispered his broken response to the empty room.

“Go to hell.”

He was getting out of here and saving their asses, if it was truly the last thing he did.

~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any part of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

_The next person to force me into the pouring rain is getting themselves a special place in hell._

For the residents of Jump City, the night was a tediously routine one, in terms of weather. Like normal, the day had stolen all of the good weather, leaving the dead of night with strong showers. This resulted in a blatant disregard for the sprightly orange hair of the girl trudging her way up the hill of the Titans Tower.

Her hair was currently plastered to her head, a soppy deadweight that clung to the goosebumps risen on her pale skin. A shiver wracked her meager form, an echo of the chatter of her teeth. Her breaths were as ragged as her movements, and by the time she had taken a few elevated steps, she was panting. She limped slightly, holding her shoulder and favoring her right hip as if she had stitches in her side.

 _At this point, stitches would be a blessing,_ she thought, peeking at the slashed skin on her midsection. _But a Nyquil wouldn’t kill me either._

Okay, it might, but being a plant-controlling megalomaniac that had an odd tolerance and occasional deathly _intolerance_ for the average drug wasn’t exactly something she could help.

Puddles littered the muddy ground as if the entire island was a sponge, soaking up as much rain as possible. She sent a savage kick to one of said puddles as her temper spiked. A wall of water preceded her angry stomps across the ground, and if she wasn’t so weak it might not have looked so petulant.

Eventually she arrived at the front of the Tower, noting the sheer size of the obnoxiously designed building. Taking her cue from the raindrops beating at the front door, she raised a trembling fist and slammed it against the metal four times before she felt her knees wobble precariously. She gave a pitiful sniff, groaning as she rubbed her chilly arms.

_If I get sick out here, after all of that…_

A few moments passed without response, and just as she was preparing to lift her fist at the doors to knock on the door until it broke, a small camera whirred at her from above. From it emitted a voice, vigilant and in a far deeper register than she had expected, but with that same dose of familiarity that sent a shiver of a different sort down her spine. After all this time...

_“State your name, occupation, and intent.”_

“Uh, Poison Ivy. Villain. And, y’know, at this point, I’ll probably just take anything you have for a cold,” the girl deadpanned, wincing as her voice came out a bit more nasally than she had intended. The voice paused, coming on again a moment later a little hesitantly.

_“Put your hand on the scanner.”_

“Scanner? What…?” A hologram on the wall, which had definitely not been there before, beeped impatiently at her. Scoffing to herself, she put her hand on the wall and immediately pulled back when the hologram gave an over exaggerated beep and disappeared.

 _“Do you have any weapons on you?”_ The voice was back, this time all traces of hesitation gone.

Poison Ivy glared at the camera. “Other than the flu? No. Now can I come in or what?”

As if in response, the doors in front of her (alarmingly tall, now that she looked, and - was it? - yes, the doors were actually in the shape of a gigantic T, as if the tower wasn’t already brazen enough) slid open. As soon as the crack was large enough for her to fit through, she bounded inside with a relieved sigh at the warmth that hit her skin. She shook herself, managing to take a few steps forward until a suspiciously large arsenal of guns, blasters, and pointy objects were directed her way. One syringe-type weapon started humming with what sounded like enthusiasm, glowing with anticipation and a sickly light. Ivy eyed it warily.

“That’s far enough,” called the same voice from before, approaching from the opposite end of the room.

He was young, a teenager, donned in a uniform that was recognizable from at least five miles away, and had a hairstyle that could have rivaled Ivy’s current frizzled mess. Although it wasn’t filtered through a speaker anymore, his voice still held a mechanical edge that was undeniably reminiscent of his ex-mentor.

At the moment, however, Ivy wasn’t concerned about anything except the towel he held in his hands. He tossed it casually, and she caught it with as much grace as one can when soaking wet and desperate to be dry. Considering this, Ivy paused in drying her hair and glanced behind her, at the track of mud she dragged in.

“Mmph. Sorry for the mess,” she said in a tone that indicated she knew her manners but didn’t care enough to put in any effort. She draped the towel over her shoulders and attempted to push her hair down into a controlled chaos rather than the frizzy mess it currently was, giving the boy a good once over. “Well. Puberty’s sure made you ripe as a raspberry since the last time I saw you.”

The teenager didn’t seem impressed. His eyes were narrowed behind his domino mask, which helpfully mimed the motion, setting his face into an ugly suspicion.

“Why are you here?” the Boy Wonder spat, one hand cautiously hovering over his utility belt. The rest of his disposition screamed forced nonchalance. “What do you want?”

“Oh, so you’ve got the grace to let a girl in from the rain, but not enough to make her comfortable before you start the interrogation. Good to know.”

Robin didn’t move, excepting a cynical eye squint that was way too trademark to not be of Batman origins. Geez, it was almost like the kid never left. Upon realizing that she wasn’t going to get anymore hospitality out of the hero, she blew a lock of frizzled hair out of her face and gazed at Robin with something akin to reluctant defiance.

“Gotham’s in trouble.”

“I’m stunned.”

“Hey, shut it, Feather Brains, I’m trying to tell you something,” Ivy growled, pulling the towel closer to herself. “I mean it. Gotham’s in trouble. Deep trouble. Even _I’m_ concerned. That’s saying something.”

Robin’s expression did not change, though his voice was minutely tighter. “...And?”

He was met with an irritated glare and a popped hip that screamed indignation, never mind that her side screamed at her in pain. “And it’s your job to fix it, Bat Boy.”

“...Gotham’s not my territory,” Robin returned sternly, after a momentary beat.

He took a few steps forward, and for a moment Ivy thought he was going to get in her face, but he went around her and she soon realized the teen was reaching past her to a keypad on the wall that disabled the weapons system. When he finished, he turned back to her with his arms crossed.

“And the city is always in trouble, mostly from people like you. Why should it concern me?”

“Because it’s your fault Gotham’s in the gutter,” Ivy countered, letting her towel drop to the floor pointedly. With short wince, she turned and moved her dress strap to expose her shoulder and the gash that ran alongside it.

It was long and deep, barely healed at all. Any healing that it had attempted was obviously foiled by the trip to the Tower, and though it wasn’t bleeding freely, it looked fearsome enough to require several stitches. There were various tears in the skin surrounding the major wound, and many parts looked infected, even dying.

She gave her slashed back a sparing glance, then looked up to see Robin’s reaction. His expression almost instantly morphed from reserved and hostile to immediately concerned. He began to take a step forward, extending his hand, but pulled back when he realized what he was doing. Ivy began talking to cover up the awkward silence that followed.

“I coated it with an extract from one of my plants, but it was only supposed to last me the trip. The sedative started to wear off thirty minutes ago.” She pulled her dress strap back up and cleared her throat. “I didn’t exactly account for the weather.”

“You can’t make more sedatives?” Robin asked, a strange crease in his face. She was almost positive that there was glint behind the mask which held the same sentiment. If she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he looked just this side of frenetic.

“No,” she replied, her consternation pushing past any amusement at the thought of a frantic Boy Wonder. “I’m exhausted, my powers are practically drained…” She hissed when her wound gave a particularly painful throb, and she swayed on her feet. “Not to mention the plant life here is surprisingly impolite.”

Robin’s surprised, _I thought you could control all plants?_ was cut off before it started by Ivy’s swoon, sending her tumbling to the floor in what would have been a graceless heap, had Robin not caught her halfway.

As he was assisting her (with a few cursory glances at her back - she could see the smidgens of horror that crinkled the edges of his mask even now), he muttered, “What happened?”

His pupiless eyes suddenly snapped to hers, all patented Batfamily disassociation gone from his expression and voice, replaced with unbridled concern and a touch of fear.

“...And what do you mean it’s my fault?”

It was at that time that the elevator where Robin had entered gave a sharp ping, announcing the arrival of two other Titans. Cyborg and his lumbering gait were easily recognizable even in the semi-low lighting, and Raven’s dark purple robes fluttered noiselessly behind her as she levitated closer to the scene.

“Robin?” Cyborg called out, but was only met by a muffled grunt as the Boy Wonder burdened the brunt of Ivy’s weight.

“That doesn’t look good,” Raven murmured as soon as she could see ahead, and Cyborg matched her flight’s pace, breaking into a hurried run. Once they reached Ivy, Cyborg immediately helped steady her while Raven’s magic found the nearest chair and levitated it to a more reasonable distance for her to sit down. Raven took note of Ivy’s wounds and stepped behind the chair to peer at them.

It seemed to take Cyborg a moment, but logic eventually caught up to him and he realized who he had helped out. He stood in frozen bewilderment comically for a few moments, before he managed to compose himself.

“Poison Ivy?” He said, as if asking for confirmation. Ivy graciously provided it with a wave that looked more like a playful waggle of her fingers than a proper greeting.

“Well, Rob-ikins never said he got some new friends,” Ivy said, ignoring Robin’s face as it turned a soft magenta. She leaned toward Cyborg, a devious smile curling her lips. “Especially not _handsome_ ones.”

“Ivy,” Robin admonished, as if she wasn’t his elder by at least four years. Nonetheless, he recognized the need for introductions and gestured in turn. “Cyborg, Raven, this is Poison Ivy. Poison Ivy, Cyborg and Raven.”

He turned back to Ivy with a stern glare. “ _No_ . _Spores_.”

“Relax, small fry,” Ivy brushed him off. “‘ _No. Powers.’_ Remember? Couldn’t seduce the tin man here if I tried - ow!”

“Oops. My mistake,” Raven deadpanned, her hands hovering over Ivy’s shoulder. “Please, continue.”

Ivy obviously got the hint, but didn’t look too happy about it as she shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. Regardless, she didn’t continue her line of thought. It must have dawned on her that insulting one of Robin’s teammates probably wasn’t the best idea when another one was picking at her wounds. Then again, what _was_ she doing back there? Just as she turned to look at what was going on, Raven stopped whatever she was doing and moved into Ivy’s line of view.

“It’s too deep to try and heal without stitches,” she told Robin with a tone that implied she had tried. If there was any sympathy in her voice, it wasn’t heard by the newcomer.

Robin, seeing as he didn’t look surprised in the slightest, seemed to take this as confirmation for his thoughts, and turned to his teammates.

“We’ll need a cot ready in the hospital wing, and Starfire and Beast Boy need to be woken up,” he ordered, his reproachful gaze falling on Ivy’s indignant frown. “I have a feeling this is going to affect all of us.”

“I’ll get the anesthetics and antibiotics ready,” Cyborg began, turning to walk away.

“Don’t bother,” Robin piped up, stopping Cyborg in his tracks before Ivy could get a word in. She glanced at him in surprise, something he steadfastly ignored. “She’s got a tolerance for basically every artificial drug out there.”

_Now how would he know a thing like that?_

“I’ve got a few healing herbs in my room,” Raven offered, and at the stares from all around, she expounded, “Sometimes my spells require a few extra ingredients. Some of them are decent sedatives, and I bet I could find a few that stave off infection.”

“Do that,” Robin nodded, “then set up the cot. Cyborg, you go wake up Starfire, tell her we’ll be in the hospital wing with Beast Boy. I’ll take Ivy up myself.”

As Cyborg made off with half-hearted grumbles about having to wake up one of the two deepest sleepers on the team, Raven wasted no time in floating through the ceiling in the vague direction of her room. Ivy crossed her arms, peering at Robin oddly.

“So what’s this about Gotham not being your territory?” She grumbled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, everyone from Gotham all the way to Starling City heard about you guys’ argument - ”

“The trip to the elevator should be the hardest part,” Robin interrupted Ivy with a critical eyebrow and two hands on his hips. “How do you want to do this?”

“Well, I’m usually one for slow and sultry, but if you’re a fast and hard type, I’m sure we can work something out.”

Robin’s expression twisted into a mess of embarrassment and irritation that he seemed to choke on. In any case, his words came out a bit strangled. “Has anyone ever told you you have the mind of a horny fifteen year old?”

“Plenty,” Ivy replied, and Robin wasn’t completely sure if she was kidding or not. “Has anyone ever told you you’re adorable when you’re flustered?”

“No,” he said, and though it was a blatant lie, it held the same disgust he would have had if he had told the truth. “Can you stand?”

Noting the rough subject change but letting it be, Ivy shrugged flippantly. She stretched out her legs and rolled forward on the chair, but only managed a few seconds and a single step forward before she had to lean on Robin. She was panting, and they both knew she wasn’t going to be able to make it to the elevator on her own.

To Ivy’s surprise, Robin simply put his hand under her knees and scooped her up bridal style. She immediately began to struggle, but Robin held firm with a few stern words, and she found herself with an upclose view of the blush coloring his cheeks.

Either that or overexertion, but she didn’t think she was that heavy. And, in fact, she was about as heavy as she looked, which was essentially nothing.

“My hero,” Ivy said sarcastically, though, once she considered it, she was confident she looked like the perfect sparkling maiden in need. One that just also happened to be bleeding all over her hero’s outfit, but a maiden nonetheless. A sly smile slid onto her face. “Mmm...do you ever think any of the knights in shining armour had a bit of extra _fun_ while carrying their maidens to safety?”

“Don’t make me drop you,” Robin threatened almost as soon as the words had left her mouth. Despite his darkened expression, she knew he would never follow through with it - unlike herself, who wouldn’t mind a peck on the lips from the Boy Wonder. Or a long, deep kiss and something more.

“Why, the manners with which you treat a lady in need are bold, indeed,” Ivy gasped with a fake accent, her arms tightening in their clasp around his neck as she blew a lock of hair out of her face.

Then, abruptly, her grasp slackened and she rolled her eyes, her voice back to portraying her condescending superiority as she noticed he actually looked a little disconcerted.

“Oh, please.” She gestured to their situation. “It’s not like anyone’s surprised.”

One side of Robin’s mask lifted in sequence with his eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it sounds, Boy Blunder.” At his blank expression, she elaborated, “Sure, there are only a few heroes cuter than you, Puddin-Pop, but not all of them have that bumbling modesty that makes the girls go wild.”

Puddin-Pop’s face screwed sideways in a bad impression of a yogurt swirl, his only retort a sharp, “Don’t call me that.”

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the elevator, effectively shutting down any reply Ivy would have had as Robin pushed the button for the hospital wing’s floor and suddenly became very self-conscious of where his hand was returning to. He decided on an awkward mid-air hang, not drooping uselessly but staying a safe distance away from her midsection, just to be safe.

Ivy found it all very amusing.

Otherwise, the elevator ride upward was only slightly awkward, and Ivy groaned a little when it stopped and broke their momentum, twisting her stomach into knots. She had never gotten motion sickness before, even while dangling upside down in one of Batman’s weird caped crusader doggy bags over long periods of time.

As if to resolve her confusion, her stomach gave a weak growl. A small blush crept up her cheeks and she looked tentatively at Robin, who would most definitely deny having an indulgent smirk along with his raised eyebrow.

How the teenager managed to pull off an eyebrow feat that would have made a certain British butler proud, the world would never know.

“So you _haven’t_ forgotten how to smile,” Ivy teased playfully. “I was getting worried for a minute there.”

She would never admit it out loud, but she wasn’t being entirely sarcastic. Fact was, the Boy Wonder just hadn’t been cracking as many jokes as she thought he might. Of course, given years, he was bound to have changed - perhaps even finally hit puberty - but still. She wondered if this stoic Batman-esque persona was how he was now, or if it was just because he was holding a stark reminder of his past in his arms. Literally.

“I think we can find something not mold-infested for you to eat,” Robin said, breaking her from her stupor, “If not, we can always order pizza.”

“As long as you’ve got something for vegetarians, no one has to die tonight,” Ivy muttered, then paused, glancing up at Robin. “I meant _me,_ not… I see how that could have been misconstrued.”

Robin just rolled his eyes, letting the ding of the elevator take the place of his reply. Immediately, the doors slid open and Ivy straightened her neck, taking in the room before them.

It was surprisingly dimly-lit, given that most medical practices generally required healers to be able to see what they were administering to their patients. There was a row of three visible cots, two of them covered with medical equipment while the one in the middle was obviously prepped for her. A line of multiple other beds must have extended further in the room, but they were concealed by a thick curtain. The window, large enough to cover the expanse of the right side of the room where the wall should have been, had an extraordinary view even despite the ugly weather, and Ivy craned her neck to see better.

“Another vegetarian?” Cyborg interrupted her inspection. “I think you and Beast Boy are going to get along just fine. Unfortunately.” Apparently, the half-robot had actually forgiven her for her earlier blunder, as he soon stood to take Ivy from Robin’s arms with surprising gentility and set her down on a free cot.

Once she had been transferred, Cyborg began to fiddle with the machines beside the bed and the metal door swooshed open to reveal Raven, carrying a box of what looked like various potted plants. Ivy didn’t fail to notice Robin’s suddenly stiff expression while she glanced over.

Very stiff, in fact. Had he been like that for long? No one else seemed to notice his falsely casual pace to the front of the room.

“Hey, Raven, can you hit the - ” Cyborg called out at the exact moment Robin reached the wall and flicked on a lightswitch that bathed the whole room in a much brighter glow. “Er, thanks, Robin.”

Ivy glanced over at the larger man. It was obvious that Cyborg could tell something was slightly off, but other than a slight hesitation, he didn’t give it any more indication. After all, Robin wasn’t looking nearly as fretful, and Ivy doubted Cyborg had even noticed him tense in the first place.

“Where’s Starfire?” the Boy Wonder directed to Cyborg, but was caught by Raven’s answer.

“Getting food for all of us,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I saw her on the way up.”

“I’ll go get her. Trying to get enough for Beast Boy, she’d be down there forever.” For the first time in her visit, Ivy saw Robin’s irritation not directed at her. It was refreshing, in a way. He started toward the door, and turned on the spot, pointing toward Ivy.

“Watch her,” he directed, and Ivy almost scoffed at the solemn nods he received from his teammates.

He left in a swoosh, leaving the other three in a moment of very thick tension. Ivy, being herself, wasn’t going to let something like that stand.

“Well,” she said rather loudly, “he’s gotten a lot crankier in his old age. A shame, too. Cynicality isn’t nearly as cute these days.” There was barely enough time for her to catch Robin’s glare through the closing doors of the elevator and send him a cheeky grin.

After that, it was just a matter of letting Raven come near enough to let her apply some of the herbs she had brought, and of getting Cyborg (who tended to her wounds with clinical precision, not surprising with his mechanical body) as flustered as possible just to stave off the boredom.

It must have been a full fifteen minutes that passed when the metal doors slid open once more. A slightly more upbeat Robin and who Ivy assumed to be ‘Starfire’ walked and floated in, respectively. The girl seemed normal, but not such that she would be able to walk down the street without a few stares. She was, quite frankly, very beautiful, and definitely knew what to wear to flaunt it.

“Bird Breath! You never said you got a girlfriend!” Ivy gasped dramatically. “And look - she’s real this time!”

The blush that arose on Robin’s neck didn’t stop at his cheeks, and this time Ivy could have sworn she saw literal steam wafting off of him as his embarrassment reached its boiling point. Meanwhile, Starfire folded her arms and, with a sharp, green spark in her eye, spat, “I hardly think a Grimplork such as you should be busying herself with Robin’s love life.”

“Oh my god,” Ivy’s teasing smile dropped from her face, her expression suddenly solemn as she ignored the fact that Starfire had probably called her something close to a slut. “I actually guessed it. You mean I was _right_? Don’t get me wrong, I’m incredibly disappointed, but… Oh man, I can’t wait until Batgirl gets wind of this!”

The mention of Batgirl seemed to pique Robin’s interest, but before he could respond, Beast Boy took the opportunity to make himself known at that moment with a few large inhalations and the unleashing of a sneeze that rattled the infrastructure of the building.

“Looks like BB’s finally up,” Cyborg said, a smirk in his voice as he pulled back a curtain to reveal a rather plump, green sloth that let out another hazardous sneeze and morphed into a snotty beagle before again morphing into a green teenager.

The boy was _green_ , and not just in a sick sort of way; he looked like he had been dipped in permanent green paint at a young age and grew into the look. He also looked pretty small, and Ivy was sure that if he stood up, he’d be even shorter than Robin, which was definitely saying something.

“Yeah I’m up, no thanks to you,” Beast Boy sniffled resentfully at Cyborg, before noticing the new occupant in the room. “Woah. Is that…?”

“Poison Ivy,” she introduced herself with a flourish and an uncomfortably wide smile. “Might I say, you look a delectable shade of green! I’ve barely grown plants that are anywhere near your hue.”

“Uh, thanks?” the shapeshifter’s voice was still uncomfortably nasally, and he seemed to notice this as he brought a forearm up to wipe away some excess snot dangling from his nose. Ignoring the disgusted looks all around, he fixated on Robin and said, “I’m… missing something, right?”

“Not much,” Raven put in, while Starfire traversed the room, passing out pieces of food from a tray she took from Robin. “No one’s explained anything yet.”

Cyborg took a plate of bacon, Raven a bagel, Robin an apple, and Starfire some sort of fruit that even _Ivy_ hadn’t heard of and looked a little like it didn’t belong on Earth. The rest of the tray, including an entire buffet of waffles and pancakes complete with several condiments and beverages, went to Beast Boy.

When Ivy’s stomach growled insolently, Robin tossed her his apple, much to the chagrin of Cyborg, who now honed a permanent glare on his team leader. Ivy, of course, paid no mind, and dug into the small portion like it was the first she had eaten in days. Which… altogether, wasn’t that false. Gotham was practically on the other side of the continent and it wasn’t like she had prepared enough to bring snacks. Plus, she was on a timetable. Bleeding out like that usually demanded haste. It had been some sort of miracle she’d been able to make it that far that quick, anyway.

In fact, it must’ve been a _really_ bad argument between the Boy Blunder and his Dark Knight for the former to escape to the other coast, but Ivy wasn’t too worried about it now. The situation in Gotham was bad enough that the past shouldn’t infringe on Robin’s martyr complex so much for him to not drop everything and go. Y’know. She hoped.

“Alright, down to business,” Robin declared, standing at the edge of Ivy’s bed and crossing his arms. “What happened to you?”

“Hah. You, uh, you sure you don’t want to do this alone?” Ivy said, looking pointedly at their company, all of which pinned her with stunning glares. At any rate, Robin’s glare was probably the strongest.

“Whatever you need to say, you can say - ”

“Yeah, yeah, spare me the sentimental speech, Bird Brain, that was for your consideration” Ivy scoffed. She swallowed the last bite of her apple and shook out some of the seeds, clutching them in her hand and visibly concentrating. When nothing happened, she merely sighed resignedly.

“Gotham’s been falling apart since you left,” she began, ignoring Robin’s lack of reaction. “Batgirl’s been able to keep everything together so far, but things are starting to strain. There’s been more crime than ever before, new villains are popping up everywhere, and… ” she trailed off uncertainly.

“And?” Robin prompted, his expression as stony as his mask.

Well, there was no use in sugarcoating it. Besides, brash was kind of her thing.

“When you left,” Ivy announced, “Batman started getting worse. Like, a lot worse. He’s putting more criminals in the hospital than in Arkham, worse. ...Hence my sudden need for stitches.”

Robin’s team remained silent, looking to their leader for their cue. Robin took a deep breath, and asked quietly, “You think he’s becoming more aggressive because of me?”

“More like, because you’re not there,” Ivy corrected, then hastily backtracked. “I mean, look, I’m not one to judge you; if I spent as many years of my life fighting crime with Batman as you did, I’d want to quit too. Hell, I’d probably move to a whole different planet if I were you - ”

“Spit it out.”

“Anyway, my point is, Batman isn’t the only reason I came all the way across the country. There’s something else. Villains have been disappearing left and right, being replaced by new ones, on the spot.”

Robin frowned, uncrossing his arms and leaning his hands against the foot of her bed. “You think there’s another Rumour incident?”

“Rumour?” Starfire interjected confusedly, aiming her question at Cyborg, but the entire room quieted at her voice. “I do not understand. What does a false tale have to do with this?”

“Not rumour,” Ivy scoffed. “ _Rumour_.”

Recognizing that that didn’t help at all as far as exposition went, Robin recounted, “Rumour was a vigilante we fought a few years ago. He captured all of the villains of Gotham and planned to destroy them with sonic wave technology. We got there in time to stop him and free all of the villains.”

“And subsequently kick all of our asses,” Ivy input grumpily. “You forgot that bit.”

“I figured it was implied,” Robin deadpanned, then returned to the original subject. “Does Batman have a suspect yet?”

“That’s the thing,” Ivy shook her head. “Nobody knows what’s happened to the villains, if they’ve even been taken, and if so, who’s taking them. Everybody’s completely in the dark. Especially those of us left.”

Robin’s frown deepened, and he slowly began to shake his head. “I can’t leave Jump City right now; we have too much work to do. There are too many questions around here that still need answers.”

This was met with a chorus of protests, not just from Ivy, but from some of his teammates as well. Raven, as usual, was the one to rein them all in with four black bubbles around the shouting mouths of Cyborg, Starfire, Beast Boy, and Ivy. When everyone calmed down enough for Raven to take away the bubbles, Robin was the first to speak, apparently in an effort to explain.

“Even if I could leave Jump City,” he began, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I couldn’t go back to Gotham. It’s too much, especially given… recent developments.” The team members who had objected visibly calmed, expressions falling and even looking a little concerned at Robin, who stared resolutely down at his hands. “It’ll take time for things to return to normal. And… I vowed that I wouldn’t go back there until tensions between us were resolved.”

There was no need to specify who _‘us’_ was, but it only fanned Ivy’s anger.

“Well, now’s the time to fix things, Bird Brain!” She exploded. “It’s not every day I can show up at a hero’s door and expect to be offered inside, but I at least like to think that when we’re in trouble - real trouble - you’d lend a hand! I-If not for the fact that it’s your damned job, then-then for old times’ sake!”

“Listen to me, Ivy. It’s probably not something you understand very well, but I can’t just uproot my life - ”

“Robin, I think you might need to calm down and consider this,” Cyborg interrupted, his expression critical. “It’s not really as if she can just uproot her life, either.”

Robin gave him a Look, and Cyborg rubbed his neck, embarrassed. “Um, bad choice of words.”

“Besides,” Beast Boy called from his bed, sounding like he had cotton stuffed up his nose, “You already uprooted your life once, and look how that turned out. It’s not like you’ll be permanently moving back to Gotham.” He sneezed a couple of times, morphing from human to rat to pigeon and back to human.

He suddenly looked a little uncertain in the subsequent silence. “You won’t be permanently moving back… right?”

“I think what Beast Boy is trying to say,” Starfire began softly, “Is that we don’t want you to leave, Robin. But we understand if you must… temporarily return, to your old home. We are capable of defending the city in your absence, if only for as long as you must be gone.” She clasped her hands together sincerely. “Do not shirk your responsibilities because of us, Robin. We can handle ourselves. You may go and be with your Knorf’ka without concern.”

Everybody turned to look at Raven, the only Titan who hadn’t yet contributed to the conversation. She flushed beet red and seemed to shrink in place. “What Starfire said,” she muttered. After a moment, she became serious again, and gave a low shrug. “If you want to stay here forever, stay. If you want to go, go. I’m not your mother.”

“Raven!” Beast Boy cried, looking re-stricken at the prospect of Robin leaving permanently. “That’s not helpful at all!”

Raven simply rolled her eyes as she was suddenly assaulted from all sides by her teammates, attempting to berate her on her unhelpfulness. Meanwhile, Ivy sent Robin a crooked smile.

“Huh. Not so bad after all, are they?” she commented over the noise. Robin’s expression didn’t change, and once he began speaking, the room was suddenly quiet again with all eyes on him.

“I appreciate you coming,” Robin said, his voice falling a little flat, “and I’m sorry I can’t help. You can stay for the night, but I expect this room to be empty by morning.”

Beast Boy and Cyborg made identical noises of indignation, but with sharp rebuke from Raven, they quieted very quickly. She shook her head and gestured for them all to leave. The rest of the team only then seemed to realize that if anyone could really convince Robin, it would have to be Ivy.

“S’alright,” Beast Boy played it off, “I was kind of hoping for a shower, anyway.”

Cyborg rolled his eyes and walked Beast Boy to the hallway bathroom quickly enough to avoid getting sneezed on. One by one they all left, until Starfire was the only one that remained.

She put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “If you do decide to leave after all, please do not do so without saying goodbye.”

Robin gave her hand a quick squeeze and didn’t look back as she took her leave. Once the doors slipped shut with a low mechanical hiss, Robin filled the silence with a couple of footsteps, moving to sit on the bed next to Ivy. He plucked his gloves off finger by finger to reveal bruised knuckles that had Ivy wincing with sympathy.

“What’d you do, fight a brick wall?” Ivy teased. Robin opened a drawer, took out some supplies, and began to wrap his knuckles in gauze and put his gloves back on.

“Cement brick, actually,” Robin returned with a smirk as he snapped his last glove on. “And he prefers to be called Cinderblock.”

“Geez, Boy Wonder. Beating up cement bricks now?” Ivy scoffed. “Nothing is safe from you.”

Upon seeing his smirk wilt, she glared at him. “Oh, don’t even start with all of that self-pity crap. God, you heroes are so fond of letting things get to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Robin raised an eyebrow. “Besides, you’re not exactly helping. It’s not like you’re the bearer of _good_ news.”

“Fair enough,” Ivy ceded, “but you don’t have to whine about it so much. It’s like none of you ever learned to deal with things emotionally.”

“That’s because _I_ didn’t,” Robin returned irritatedly. “I learned to deal with things logically. And right now, logic is telling me that returning to Gotham is a mess of trouble that I’m not going to be able to fix overnight.” He stood, finding his way to the vitals monitor beside Ivy’s cot, where he fiddled with some of the settings, then began to pace in front of her bed. “I don’t even know if I can fix it in the first place.”

“What’s that all about, anyway?” Ivy asked, watching him tread a hole in the carpet. “I mean, the Bat’s insufferable, I get that. But what exactly would make you travel all the way across a freaking continent to get away from him?”

Robin paused to glare at her, then resumed his pacing, slower and more self-aware of each step he took. Well, he should have been, with his eyes glued to his shoes, but Ivy could tell he wasn’t really focused on his steel-toes.

“It was a _stupid_ argument in the first place. But it showed what we both thought of each other at the time, which I guess is what comes out of every good argument. I… made a stupid mistake, and got myself hurt during a mission. Him being, well, _him_ , he thought I should take a little break from being Robin for a while. I told him that if he didn’t need me anymore because I was getting in his way, he should just say so. We yelled a bit, I threatened to leave, and he said that I wouldn’t be able to be Robin if I left. So I quit.”

“And traveled a continent’s worth of land to prove him wrong?” Ivy scoffed. “That’s an overreaction if I’ve ever heard of one.”

Robin shook his head. “I figured if I went far enough, maybe there wouldn’t be people who knew who I was, or who Batman was.” He chuckled mirthlessly, sitting back down on the edge of a bed. “That didn’t turn out quite as planned.”

“No kidding,” returned Ivy with a scoff. “I figured it’d be hard to find you with the entire U.S. to look through, but it turns out the gigantic tower in the shape of a T housing the Teen Titans isn’t all that inconspicuous.”

“The home invasions do get old pretty quickly,” Robin smiled. “But we’ve gotten through it each time, and we never really thought to change it.” His smile turned wistful. “It’s home to us.”

Ivy paused, considerate of the silence, for once. “It must be hard to have two separate homes so far from each other,” she said quietly.

“I don’t really think about Gotham all that much,” Robin said after a brief moment. “Obviously, there are a few reminders - ” Ivy snorted quietly, getting a reproachful look from Robin, “ - but otherwise, it’s a memory more than anything else.”

Ivy smiled weakly, and said, “Think you could stand to make a couple more of those memories?” The smile began to drop off of her face, and she whispered, “We really need your help, here.”

“Ivy - ”

“You don’t even have to stay long, just enough to maybe help us out a bit!” Ivy insisted, a bit of desperation leaking into her voice. “We’re all disappearing, one by one! Penguin, Riddler, Catwoman, Bane, the Joker - ”

“The Joker’s gone?” Robin demanded, his eyes a little wide.

“He was the first to go,” Ivy confirmed, but didn’t ask why Robin thought that was the most important part of all of this. “And soon enough, we’ll all be gone. I know, I know, that sounds more like a blessing than a curse, but… ” She seemed to shrink in her seat. “I don’t want to be replaced.”

Robin stared at her for a moment, then stood again, presumably to pace. He didn’t get that far, however. Upon standing, he cried out, clutching his side and falling back down onto the bed. Ivy looked up, startled. A small smear of blood on the front of his uniform was slowly growing into a concerning puddle, which Robin was staring at like it was a pesky fly on the wall.

To Ivy’s ultimate delight, he didn’t seem to put modesty above injuries. He undid his utility belt and wriggled out of his shirt, wasting no time in undoing the bloody gauze around his midsection. With all of the gauze gone, he exposed what Ivy had first thought was an undershirt, but was instead his bare skin.

To say he was riddled with bruises would be an understatement; it was more like there were patches of healthy skin among a mural of black, blue and purple in blending hues. The only stark difference was below his ribs on his left side, a scratch not unlike Ivy’s, just less gruesome. It didn’t have any stitches in it, but it bled as if it needed some. Without so much as a wince, Robin took some gauze out of the cot’s supply kit and began re-wrapping himself.

Noting he had a bit of trouble with the twist behind his back, Ivy stood, moving his utility belt to sit beside him. She pointedly took the roll of gauze from his hands. He seemed a bit reluctant, but didn’t say anything, so she began wrapping him up, knowing he would tell her if she was doing it wrong.

“Thanks,” he said, ducking below the bed and retrieving a box that had a week’s worth of clothes in it that looked a lot like Robin’s uniform.

Either they had boxes like that for all of them, or Robin had been living in here for at least a couple of days. Given his recent black and blue tattoos, Ivy wouldn’t be surprised.

“I assume that’s one of the reasons you won’t come back, huh?”

“...Among other things,” he said reluctantly, pulling the shirt over his head and putting his utility belt back on.

There was a long gap of silence, and Ivy looked up, her voice soft, vulnerable. “You could bring one of your friends, if you want. Y’know, to help you out, or… or not.”

He glanced at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m pretty sure your friends wouldn’t advocate for you to go anywhere if they knew you were hurt. You heroes and your messiah complexes. Whatever to keep them happy so you can save more people, right?” She chuckled softly, then muttered, “...Well, now is definitely the time. Whatever you need, Robin, _please_ . We need you. … _I_ need you.”

Robin sighed longsufferingly, and shook his head. “I couldn’t drag the other Titans into this, you know that,” he said at last. “And Jump City needs all of them present to keep her safe.”

“Does that mean you’ll come alone, then?” Ivy prodded tentatively, feeling that this silence was hanging on tenterhooks of stifling and excruciating, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Against my better judgement,” Robin finally agreed, a strange expression on his face. He stood, suddenly leaning forward with the intensity of the thunderstorm outside, and hissed, “If this is a trap, I will personally see to it that neither you nor your plants see the light of day again.”

Ivy’s eyes widened, before a blinding grin split her face, and she locked the hero’s neck in a tight hug. “Ha! … Thanks, Wonder Boy.” Once Robin was able to get free, he brushed himself off, then turned and started to walk out of the room. Ivy shook herself violently.

“Wait, woah, where are you going?” she cried.

“Breakfast,” Robin said with a raised eyebrow and what looked to be a hint of a smile crinkling his eyes. “Real breakfast. I hope you like tofu.”

Ivy’s disgusted outburst was enough to illicit a laugh from the leaving Titan.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Robin spent most of the night watching over Poison Ivy, while she ached and whined and yelled at him that no, vegetarian and vegan were most definitely not the same thing, thank you very much. Beast Boy came back in maybe half an hour after Robin had retrieved breakfast, and happily joined into the discussion with Ivy about dieting habits, which lasted much longer than Robin had hoped it would.

By the time the sun floated above the ocean horizon, Robin felt like he deserved some sort of tolerance medal. Or at least an official acknowledgement of some kind that he had lasted the entire night with Ivy and BB in the same room having a debate about the dozens of types of tofu.

Not wanting to leave Ivy alone (Beast Boy was fast asleep by the time the sun peeked over the horizon), Robin woke up Raven, eternally grateful that she was considerate of his situation and not the monster that she liked to be in the early hours of the morning. After all, she was the Titan most likely to understand his judgement, and so he was given free reign to pack his things. By the time he got back, Raven was meditating while Ivy was looking just this side of pissed.

The cause was immediately known when Robin took a step forward and noticed the black energy holding Ivy’s hands and legs together, as well as the thin line covering her mouth. In fact, there was a faint black outline around her entire body. Robin turned slowly to face Raven, who opened her eyes as soon as Robin’s gaze reached her.

“Her powers are back,” was all she said, and Robin nodded solemnly, turning back to Ivy. Once he got close enough, Raven dropped her power and Ivy became suddenly very animated with a terrified shiver.

“God, even Batman isn’t usually that creepy,” Ivy muttered, and in response, she received a cold glare from Raven, which seemed to shut her up well enough.

Robin turned to Raven and said, “Could you get everyone rounded up at the front door? We’ll be down there in a minute.”

Raven nodded at him, but didn’t leave before saying, “You owe me for this.”

Robin cringed. “Fair enough.”

And with that, Raven dove down through the floor to complete her directive.

Robin, meanwhile, turned to Ivy, who was rubbing at her wrists as if Raven’s power had given her rope burns, except that there wasn’t even discoloration on the skin. She glanced up, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing herself to stand. She was a little unsteady at first, but she regained her balance and was able to take a few steps without complaint. She took a few locks of her hair between her fingers and made a disgusted face. 

“Mind if I take a quick shower before we go?” she not-so-much-asked-as-demanded, and Robin nodded once.

“Make it quick. I’ll meet be out here when you’re finished.”

“What, hoping to catch me in a towel?”

“There’s an extra set of clothes under your cot,” Robin padded over to the window with the view, put his arms on the windowsill, and stared out at the sunset over the horizon. 

Five minutes later, Ivy came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel wrapped under her armpits to find Robin in the exact same position he had been in. She slowly walked up beside him, mimicking his position and holding her towel in place with her elbows.

“I think I like the view from Gotham better,” she said, subdued, after a long moment of silence. When Robin didn’t respond, she added, “I saw you, sometimes, perched on top of Wayne Manor, just looking at the sunrise or the sunset.”

If he was surprised at this revelation, he didn’t show it. Actually, he just had that same tired expression on his face he used to have when he thought no one was looking. It remained on his face as he glanced over at her shoulder, stitched to all hell and free of blood, but still nakedly gruesome. 

“Batman did this.” It definitely wasn’t a question, and Ivy wasn’t about to answer it like one. Instead, she tossed her hair back, covering the scar with tendrils of wet orange locks.

“I’ve never seen him watching the sunset before,” she said. “Do you think he does?”

Robin didn’t reply for a long minute, but then finally turned back to the window and murmured, “Last I heard, the smog was getting thick enough to blot out the stars. I don’t suppose Gotham’s in good enough condition for watching the sunset, anymore.”

“Not from the city, maybe,” Ivy said slowly. “But Wayne Manor is the best seat for miles. Well, there and Arkham, when it hasn’t got that chronic thunder storm hanging over it.”

To her surprise, the Boy Wonder had a small smile on his face when she glanced over. “How does Bruce Wayne feel about you appropriating his roof?”

“You’re assuming I’m reckless enough to get caught,” Ivy chuckled, but upon seeing Robin’s expression, rolled her eyes. “Alright, so he’s called the cops a couple of times. Hell, recently he’s gotten Batman there quicker than I’ve ever seen the Bat get anywhere. He must have him on speed dial or something.”

“...He might have,” Robin nodded absentmindedly, eyeing the golden waves crashing onto the rocks below. After a moment, he snapped out of his stupor and glanced sideways with a frown. “Did you forget your clothes?”

“Kinda,” Ivy shrugged, heaving a sigh and taking one more glance at the view before moving away from the window. “I’ll be dressed in a couple of minutes. I assume I don’t need supervision for that?”

“As much as I’m sure you’d enjoy it, no,” Robin turned around, moving toward the elevator at the front of the room. “Change quickly. If we want to get to Gotham before sunrise tomorrow, we have to get going. I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re done.”

“Alright, Boy Blunder, don’t get your thistles in a bunch,” Ivy said, then paused. “Wait! Where’s the - ”

“Bottom drawer,” Robin rolled his eyes just as the elevator doors shut. Ivy huffed, moving to her bedside drawer and opening the bottom shelf, taking the comb inside and brandishing it like it was a weapon.

A couple of minutes later, Robin was downstairs finishing up his goodbyes with the Titans when Ivy made her way out of the elevator, munching on an apple. If anyone looked, they would have found the apple seeds from last night gone. She didn’t think they’d mind.

“Don’t stress about us, dude,” Beast Boy assured between sneezes and occasional morphs. Cyborg had helped him downstairs for the team farewell, and now handed him a box of tissues, which he took. “We’ll keep the city safe.”

“Good. I guess it’d be asking too much for you not to drive Cyborg insane.”

“Deal,” Beast Boy grinned. “ _ If _ I get to drive your R-cycle when you get back.”

“We’ll see,” Robin said, but he was smiling indulgently. He turned to Cyborg, who cut him off before he began.

“You sure you’re alright for the trip?” the eldest teenager asked, peering suspiciously at his leader with hands pressed on his metallic hips. 

Ivy couldn’t help but smirk as Robin glossed over the concern with a painfully sincere assurance. Since when did the all-holy and obedient heir to the Bat get so good at lying?

“...Uh-huh,” Ivy heard Cyborg mutter, “Technically, you shouldn’t be fighting crime now, but if you insist, I can’t stop you. Just take it easy over there, dude.”

“What, Gotham?” Robin chuckled. “I doubt anything they’ve got to offer could be worse than being chased around like a gigantic t-bone steak.”

“Man, you’re never gonna let that go, will you?” Cyborg scoffed, arms crossed but demeanor less uptight. “It was a virus. And it was all BB’s fault, anyway.”

“Hey!” Beast Boy interjected, starting a squabble with Cyborg that Robin wasn’t as concerned with as he was with Raven.

“Someone’s going to have to keep those two in line,” he said, to which Raven looked less than enthused. “On the bright side, I know a butler who’d be more than happy to offer a lifetime supply of waffles to whoever I please.”

“I don’t negotiate with people who joke about waffles,” Raven said, but a moment later, a soft smile curved her cheeks, and she looked at him with something like fondness. “Come back soon.”

“Robin… ” Starfire muttered, coming in from the left and entrapping Robin in a tight hug. “Be safe.”

Robin took a look at his entire team from around Starfire’s shoulder, then said, “Starfire… I’ll see you soon.” 

Finally, he addressed them all as a group, just as Ivy made her way to his side. “Don’t hesitate to call, guys. God knows things’ll be ten times as boring without you.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow at him, flicking her wrist and rejuvenating bits of the apple she had bitten off. “Ready?”

Ivy gave the Titans a hearty wave, and Robin followed her through the illuminated T of the front door, leaving his friends behind.

~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any part of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

The weather in Gotham was, for the first time in a very long time, clear. Not to say that the sky was clear; Gotham still had its primary cloak of smog hiding the stars from view and casting the town in an eerie gray and yellow glow.

On the far side of town, nowhere near the center but not yet on the outskirts, an abandoned warehouse bustled with an energy that contradicted the description of abandoned. On the highest floor was the office of the mastermind behind the plans both downstairs and in Gotham as a whole. She was currently sitting in a hastily stolen plastic chair, gazing through the window at the city lights beyond. She clasped her hands together, putting her elbows on her knees.

_ The coffee shop wasn’t the most dignified in town, with its dingy corners and infrastructure on the verge of collapse. But they always did make the best damn coffee in the entire city. _

The woman sighed softly, closing her eyes as her memories played on her eyelids like a movie in the theater.

_ Her steps were lazy, when they should have been quick, alert. She going to be late for work at this rate, but there seemed to be a depression squashing the high spirits of Gotham, as of late. Well. More than usual. The bell on the door jingled impudently as she entered and held the door for a couple walking out. She nodded at their thanks and winced at the click of her shoes on the broken tile. _

_ The shop hadn’t been renovated since the 80’s, back when the infamously fashioned diners were still around. Evidently, Butch’s Cafe had been stylized to mimic said diners, but not very well. The red leather barstools were tearing at the seams, and the checkered tile was painful to look at, but the sleek computers and other anachronisms stood out, well, like the 80’s did in a lineup of the ages. _

_ Thankfully, not many people frequented Butch’s Cafe, as they were more likely to judge it from its cover. Because of this, the lines were delightfully short and the place wasn’t as overpopulated like many of the coffee shops scattered around the city. _

_ Every morning, she would come in just before work to get a coffee. Well, she used to. That was back when she used to work for Wayne Industries in one of the factories, working the assembly line like a mindless drone who hadn’t grown up in Gotham and had ambitions to clean the streets of the crime she had lived around. _

_ With her new job, she finally had an opportunity to fulfill her ambitions, and she was going to be late on the first day. With a resigned sigh, she approached the counter and didn’t spare a glance to the specials board before ordering. _

_ “Large, to-go, black with cream and two sugars, please.” _

_ “Coming right up,” the man at the counter replied, disappearing a few moments later and coming back with numbers to punch into the cash register.  _

_ “We’re doing renovations,” he explained, which wasn’t surprising, since it was always something they claimed. “We had to take down the board and change all of the prices.” _

_ She glanced up in surprise, and found the usual specials board to be gone. She was about to ask what the difference in price was when she was interrupted. _

_ “That’ll be $7.34 with tax.” _

_ She dug around in her pockets, realizing she had left her wallet in her bag. Which was in her car. Shit. _

_ With a longsuffering sigh, she took a few steps backward, “I left my wallet in my car. I’ll be right - ” _

_ She was barely able to take note of the man standing behind her before she ran right into him, knocking both of them down and sending the ten dollar bill he was about to hold out to her drifting to the ground. She looked down at him from where she had half-gotten up, and realized she had just tripped straight into a  _ very _ handsome man. _

“Good God, that’s so cliche,” the mastermind groaned, pushing her heels into her eyes to stave off a painful headache. She pounded her forehead with both fists in sudden frustration. “How did it go?”

_ “That’ll be $7.34 with tax.” _

_ She dug around in her pockets, realizing she had left her wallet in her bag. Which was in her car. Shit. _

_ With a longsuffering sigh, she took a few steps backward, “I left my wallet in my car. I’ll be right back, I promise.” _

_ So much for having a good day. At this rate, she wouldn’t have her coffee on time, and she would be  _ very _ late for work. Great. _

_ In less than a minute, she had opened her car, dug around for her bag, and finally retrieved her wallet. She hastily closed her car door (locking it, to be safe) and dashed inside, almost tripping over her own feet to get the cash out. At last, she managed to get $7.29. What was the new price again? She still needed five more cents. The only other bill she had was a twenty. God, how bad could this day get? _

_ “Five cents,” she muttered, clawing to the bottom of her wallet. _

_ “Ah, here,” called a masculine voice from behind her, briefly letting out a subsequent exclamation of pain as she turned very suddenly and ended up hitting the man in the face with her bag. The very handsome man, she noted with growing horror, who was holding out a nickel before he had been smacked. _

“I didn’t leave my wallet… ” The woman growled through her forearms, pulling at her hair. “I left it in my car… Or had I - ”

_ \- dropped it just as the couple was walking past her through the coffee shop doors. With a startled yelp, she quickly bent down to retrieve it, almost knocking heads with the man as he attempted to do the same. _

_ “Sorry,” she bit, frowning slightly at the man she was 99% sure had tried to pickpocket her, but failed. If anything, he deserved a slap in the face, but with a gracious nod, he opened the door for his partner to walk through, so she let it go. _

_ She shook her head slowly, opening her wallet to see that nothing was missing. Her money, photos, credit cards, and driver’s license were all in place, and she breathed a sigh of relief. One could never be too sure who was a criminal in Gotham; at times, it seemed like everybody had been, at one point or another. It was essentially New York’s dumping ground. The City Where Dreams Came True had to put its failed subjects somewhere, and for some reason, they had all gravitated to Gotham. _

_ Getting her coffee was a quick thing every day, and she was determined to be only as late as to not get herself fired on the first day, so she barely even gave the counter guy a second glance when he charged her extra for her coffee. Renovations, yeah, right. As if they didn’t claim that every other month as an excuse to jack up the prices of their coffee. _

_ Regardless, their coffee was the best in the city and as she stepped outside with the steam rising into her face, she suddenly found her cup of the best coffee in the city dribbling down some other guy’s shirt.  _

_ Oh. Not just some other guy. A very handsome guy, who just happened to look even cuter with that what-just-happened expression on his face. _

“No, no,  _ no! _ ” the mastermind seethed. “I never  _ hit _ him, or  _ tackled _ him, or spilled  _ coffee _ on him… why can’t I  _ remember? _ ”

“Perhaps you’re trying too hard,” called a playful voice from the other side of the room. “Be careful. You might pull something.”

Instead of anger at being eavesdropped on, the woman heaved a resigned sigh. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” the man returned, his eyes glinting in the darkness. There was an uncharacteristic frown in his eyes, though his face was encased in a practically permanent smile. “You’re going to kill yourself doing this. Not that I’m complaining, but we’ve already gotten so far… it’d be a shame for you to just drop dead in such an anticlimactic fashion.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Not in the mood right now.”

“Mm. Well, I bet you wouldn’t even remember if you have ever been ‘in the mood’, would you?” the villain prodded. “How infuriating must it be to be unable to remember even the most insignificant details of your past?”

“I do remember some things,” the woman scoffed, standing to stretch her legs. Her voice became fixed, sadness barely bleeding through. “I remember his face. His... words.”

“But you don’t know who he is,” the man giggled softly. “How ironic is that? The monster’s girlfriend can’t even remember he’s a monster!”

“I know enough!” she yelled back, then pinched the bridge of her nose in consternation. She couldn’t let him rile her up like this, or she really would pull something. Like the top row of his teeth. She repeated softer, “I know enough.”

“How convincing.” The man made a sour face that looked just a bit too knowing for her taste. “So how do you tell which parts are real and which have been made up?”

She smiled stonily, sitting back down and returning to her original position. “I don’t.”

“Augh. You can be really cliche, sometimes,” the man rolled his eyes and yawned, fanning it away with a spare hand. “You know, after a while, all the drama gets old. That’s why we have comedy, after all.”

“And you’re  _ such _ an expert at that.”

“Now you’re getting it!” he bounded towards her, arms flying out in a spread eagle position. “What kind of world would it be if we didn’t have humor? Dark and serious, like Batman! Not to mention just as boring!” He tore at his hair, and the woman scoffed.

“He’d be better entertainment in my hands than you are,” she said, and the man rolled his eyes. 

Despite his best efforts, sometimes people just didn’t understand humor, no matter how many times you repeated the joke.

“Speaking of the Bat,” he said, sitting in a splayed position on top of her desk, “The underlings are getting concerned about the arrival of the Bat Brat. There’s been talk of an uprising.”

“Then squash it,” she commanded, and her voice was suddenly very sharp. “That’s why I keep you around, isn’t it?”

“Mmm, I just love when you get all controlling like that,” the man threw back his head and laughed joyously. “Really, it tickles me in places you wouldn’t imagine.”

Okay, gross.

He laughed for an inordinate amount of time, given the lack of any kind of joke. It kept coming in insanity-inducing spurts, despite the fact that a normal person would have run out of breath by now. Sometimes the woman could swear laughing was the man’s normal state and he had to restrain himself just to speak clearly. The disconcerting thing was that his laughs never sounded quite real, like there was some small something that was missing. 

She figured he had always lacked real amusement. He truly found the entire world funny, and when everything was funny, nothing was funny anymore. It almost gave his laugh a creepy uncanny valley effect that put her on edge, and she was positive she wasn’t the only one.

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” she cut in, and the laughter abruptly stopped. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but, uh, I figure it’s due. So. Thanks. I know you were the only reason that everybody else agreed to help.”

“Well of course I was!” he winked teasingly, sliding off of the desk. “But don’t go thinking I did all of this as some sort of holistic sacrifice for you. I’ve - ”

“ - got another angle, I know,” she finished for him with a small smile, as he brushed himself off and trotted over to the door. “I’d actually be more wary if you didn’t. That’s how this all works, I guess.”

“Well, then, no need to thank me yet, sugar plum,” the man grinned back, swinging open the door with an over-dramatic flourish. The light from the hallway bled into the darkened room like an open wound. “Let’s just see if you can hold up your end of the bargain.”

And, with a laugh that would have any sane person reaching for his throat, the Joker slammed the door shut and darkness enveloped the room, leaving the mastermind to her own devices once again.

~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any part of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

“A clear night in Gotham?” Robin noted, glancing up at the sky from his speeding R-cycle. “Things really have changed.”

He didn’t really expect an answer from Poison Ivy, who had decided hours ago that as much as the thought of being pressed up against the Boy Wonder thrilled her, she would much rather use her own method of transportation (via leaf, of course), and was only occasionally visible from every building or so because of this.

All in all, he didn’t mind the silence nor the space. It had been at least three years since he had been back in Gotham, and it was starting to hit him with the force of an oncoming train. They couldn’t even see the city yet, but the atmosphere was already so much different from Jump City, it was almost suffocating. He felt a painful tug in his chest at the thought of his friends, and wished not for the first time that he had brought one of them along with him.

But it wasn’t logical. Never mind that Robin wanted them as far away from his past life as possible, Jump City needed its heroes, and he might not have been able to spare an extra Titan away from the city. But it sure would have been nice to enjoy the sunrise in Gotham with one of his friends, perhaps with Starfire…?

In any case, the sunrise wouldn’t be for another half-hour, but he wanted to make it to Wayne Manor soon enough to catch it. Hopefully, Ivy would go her own way once they entered the city, so Robin could have a bit of time to himself before he faced… everything.

Once Gotham’s city limits were in sight - a lot closer than Robin had expected, but that wasn’t too surprising, since it had been three years, there were bound to be renovations and expansions - Ivy descended next to Robin and yelled, “Well, Robin, it was nice to see you again, and the hospitality was great while it lasted, but y’know, we all have our part to play!”

“What?” Robin frowned, tilting his head toward her. “What are you talking about?”

Ivy smiled semi-apologetically. “I mean I was told to bring you in, sweet cheeks, and that’s exactly what I intend to do!”

_ Note to self: Never ignore instincts again. _

Her smile turned suddenly sour and Robin trusted the gut instinct that was telling him to move,  _ now _ , because that was the smile of a predator who had trapped their prey. So with a dangerous swerve that would make even the most stoic of Batmen fret, Robin braked harshly on his motorcycle and waited for just the right moment to vault off of it and grapple to the nearest rooftop.

It was a quick thing, as well, since Ivy’s vines were fast on the uptake and nearly caught him as he swung to the side. Upon landing, he tucked and rolled and spared a quick glance behind him to see his R-cycle had been completely totalled, and that Ivy was a lot closer than he had thought.

Thoughts frantic and body weak with a cocktail of wounds and exhaustion, he tried to accurately judge the distance from his current position to the nearest entrance of to the Batcave that he could remember, preferably before Ivy caught up to him.

As of the current moment, he was still at least three blocks away from the previous city limits, and therefore maybe nine blocks from one of Batman’s Batmobile entrances, which wouldn’t do him much help, seeing as Robin had neither a remote nor the security code which Batman was infamous for changing every week. Not to mention his motorcycle, which automatically updated with the code, had been smashed to bits.

Robin growled under his breath. He had really liked that motorcycle.

So it seemed making a run for it wasn’t an option. Not unless… he barely had time to flip out his cell phone and pray that he still had Barbara’s phone number before the building he was on shook violently, gigantic vines gripping the side of the roof and shaking it. Well, he wasn’t going to get anywhere, trying to type on his phone with so much trembling.

“C’mon, Bat Boy, there’s no use running!” Ivy called out playfully, her hair starting to peek over the rooftop ledge. “I followed you all the way across the country! Do you really think there’s any place I wouldn’t go?”

_ It’s no use trying to reach the Batmobile’s entrance,  _ Robin grumbled to himself. Even if he tried to reach the Batcave now, Ivy would know of the entrance he used, and no one wanted the fallout from something like that. Meaning the only option he had left was dependent on whether or not he had stored his contacts from over three years ago. Wonderful.

But then, there was no way he would be able to hold a conversation with Babs while fighting Ivy simultaneously. Which meant that it was time for a distraction. He leapt from one rooftop to the next, narrowly dodging several plant attacks and clutching the cell phone in his hand like it was his lifeline, glancing behind him momentarily to see where Ivy was.

“If you were planning on capturing me from the start,” Robin yelled over the rumble of distant plant life, “then why didn’t you do it back in Jump City?”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” Ivy groaned. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to think you wouldn’t be able to find some sort of way out if I kept you trapped for over six hours, while traveling? Besides, you were already ready to go by yourself - I thought it might just save some time and effort!”

Well, she was definitely right, there. He was raised in an environment that made him practically immune to traps, and he did end up rushing the two of them as the day passed overhead. Watching Gotham’s sunrise past the smog in the air, seeing the sun lift over Gotham bay as the moon slowly sank down the darkened sky… it was one of Robin’s favorite past times.

Fortunately, they hadn’t made it in time to watch the sun come up, which was just as well, since Ivy couldn’t see as well in the dark and would have a harder time kidnapping him. God, why didn’t he see that coming? He’d been so obsessed with Ivy’s wounds and it being his fault that he didn’t even stop to consider that it was all a trap.

No, he had considered it. That’s what made it worse. He considered it and took no precautions.  _ Idiot! _

His step faltered just before the leap off of a particularly high-rise building, and with the grace of a dewinged butterfly, he twisted in a spiral, hurtling towards the busy streets below with alarming speed. A quick move and a grappling hook later, he was swinging from the rooftops again, dodging plant vines as they came at him from all sides.

There was no time to brood, no time for mistakes. He had to distract Ivy now, or he was going to run out of city to escape through. Or, more likely, run out of blood to lose before he turned into the first human raisin. So he did what he did best and took advantage of his short stature.

He took a sharp U-turn past one of his favorite candy stores and winced as one of Ivy’s vines smacked right into the side of it. Whoops. With no more preamble, he swung back as silently and as quickly as possible to a building Ivy had already passed and partially destroyed. He crouched down low, hiding amongst the parking lot rubble and hastily scrolling through the contacts on his phone.

“Oh, Robbie-poo!” Robin winced at the nickname. First Kitty, now Ivy. Would they ever stop? “Come out, come out, wherever you are! I’ve got a few sleep spores with your name on them! And y’know what else, I’ve got a few other kinds of spores, but we’ve got to work before we can play, isn’t that right?”

_ …Batmobile, Batwing, Batboat… How many freaking phones did Batman have installed in his stupid themed vehicles? …Batman, Beast Boy, Bennett… Why were there so many B’s? … Batgirl, there! _

“I said, playtime is over!” Ivy shouted, and the distinct sound of crumbling buildings echoed eerily through the rubble. “Come out and fight like a girl!”

_ Ring-ring… ring-ring… C’mon, pick up the phone…! _

_ “Oof… Hello?” _

“Barbara!” Robin cried, probably a little too loudly, as the sound of Ivy’s slithering vines suddenly got a lot closer. 

Not willing to find out if his cover had been blown, Robin pelted out of his hiding spot and just managed to avoid a descending plant root before he got out into open air again. With a wince, he glanced down at his midsection, seeing the blood pooling through his shirt again. Great.

_ “D- I mean, Robin? Look, now really isn’t a good time - ” _

If she was being conscientious of his identity, she was probably still in costume. Which meant, luckily enough for him, that she was probably out in the city somewhere.

“Where are you?” Robin barked, bounding to the top of another rooftop and attempting to get to higher ground.

_ “Wha - In Gotham, why?”  _

“I know that!” Robin snapped. “I’m here, trying to find you! Where are you?”

_ “Wait, you’re here? In Gotham?”  _ Before Robin could snipe back another retort, Babs seemed to shake herself.  _ “No, yeah, right, I’m downtown, over by the old coffee shop we would always hang out at- uh, Stickler’s? Right?” _

That was in the opposite direction, but not far from where Robin was currently. With a short, “I’m coming to you,” Robin snapped his phone shut and skidded to a halt, swiveling on his heel and running back the way he came. He saw Ivy before she saw him, and took the opportunity to launch toward her, clipping her in the shoulder as he went by. She tumbled off of her leaf with a pained cry, but Robin didn’t have the time to stop and survey the damage.

Five minutes later, he arrived at an equally horrendous scene where Batgirl had apparently been trying to fight the Penguin and the Scissor Sisters all by herself. What were they called again? Kabob Sisters? Karaoke Twins? Something with a ‘Ka’.

Robin spotted Batgirl lying among some rubble not a couple of paces away, and managed to kick one of the sisters (Kadushi? Kamuski?) out of the way. Penguin seemed stunned enough by his presence to forget what he was doing, and Robin would have bet Batgirl would’ve had the same reaction if he hadn’t called ahead.

“Thanks,” she said as he offered her a hand out of the cracked cement. She gave him a once-over, appraising him with a small smile. “You’re back,” was all she said.

“Yeah,” Robin said, breathless.

“You’re bleeding,” Batgirl’s eyes widened, but didn’t get to say much more than that before Penguin’s henchmen were on them again. With both of them working, it wasn’t as hard as before. 

While dodging their razor sharp claws, Robin managed to get out, “Hey, Batgirl?”

“A little busy here, Talkative Tim,” she rolled her eyes, a sharpness in her tone. “What is it?”

“What are their names?” he asked, and he supposed it was a little out of the blue, but the small stumble that Batgirl gave was definitely  _ not _ his fault. “It’s something ‘Ka’, right?”

“Kazoo Twins?” she suggested with a smirk, though it was directed at the Sisters, so it was probably more of a taunt. “Kansas Sisters?”

“That’s not it,” Robin frowned, oblivious to the joke. They both managed to stun the twins, then delivered a perfectly timed punch to both of them, knocking them to the ground unconscious. Robin raised an eyebrow to Batgirl and said in a deadpan, “How about the Karma Sisters?”

Her face lit up with joy as she threw her arms around his neck. “It’s Kabuki Twins, you idiot,” she said breathlessly, moving to poke at Robin’s midsection with a small sniffle. If Robin didn’t know better, he’d think she might’ve been crying. She finished her inspection with a small shake of her head and an exasperated, “You just need some sedatives and some sleep.”

Sedatives and sleep definitely sounded like a good idea, especially given the renewed throbbing all over his body; he was starting to regret coming to Gotham without better protection.

It was then that Robin noticed something was missing. “Where’s Batman?”

Batgirl frowned. “Never mind him, where’s Penguin?”

An extremely shrill voice echoed around the corner. “Heeere’s Ivy!”

Thus came Poison Ivy, riding a plant that looked like a colossal venus fly trap and had a gaping maw in which Ivy stood, fuming. She was breathing pretty heavily and sending Robin the harshest death glare he had probably ever been sent.

She let out a ravaged scream, thrusting her hands forward, commanding the plant life around her to spring into actions which followed her gesture. Batgirl and Robin immediately readied their weapons, ready to jump into battle in a second…

But, as it turned out, no such battle was necessary. A moment later, Poison Ivy’s plants froze in place, and with a small yelp, she was sent flying forward. She skidded on the pavement, rolling to a stop just out of reach of the Bat pair. 

With a groan that was completely justified, she mumbled presumably to herself, “Ugh. Give a girl a warning, would you?” She picked herself off of the ground and began to back away, though it was obvious she was in pain. “Not today, I guess, Robin. Tell you what though. Next time, don’t bring the third wheel, eh?”

Robin took off, meaning to go after her, but the frozen bulbous head closed and exploded in a mess of plant goop and spores that Robin had to cough his way past. Through the obstructions, it was impossible to see where Ivy had gone, and therefore impossible to track her. 

Well, Robin had a bad feeling they would be seeing her soon anyway.

“I can’t believe you’re back,” Batgirl laughed as soon as the spores and smoke had cleared. “I… Actually, why  _ are _ you back?”

“Believe it or not,” he said, “Poison Ivy.” 

His face grew solemn as he appraised all the damage that had been done. There was a sinking line straight through the city where Ivy’s plants had wreaked havoc on various buildings and establishments that would undoubtedly take months of rebuilding. Batgirl’s original fight, though more contained, still had equally destructive results. All of this collateral, and it definitely could have been avoided. So, after all of this, Robin really only had one thing to say to Batgirl.

“Where the hell is Batman?”

~ ~ ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any part of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

Fortunately for Robin, Batgirl’s motorcycle hadn’t been trashed, and in less than five minutes, they were speeding towards an alleyway which Robin knew all too well. He shifted his arms, locked tight around Batgirl, and leaned heavily on her back. 

She gave him a little kick and said, “You’d better hope you’re not bleeding all over my costume, Twinkle Toes.”

“Only a little,” he mumbled, feeling the exhaustion of the past few days catch up to him as his eyes slid closed. His eyes snapped open a moment later as the entrance to the Batcave was revealed, and they entered. “Is Batman in?”

“Dunno,” Babs replied a little softer as they went through the echoing tunnel, using one hand to slip her mask off. “I haven’t been in here for a while.”

To Robin’s surprise, her scarlet hair didn’t flow behind her but fluttered pathetically due to its short length. A pixie cut. Who was the Twinkle Toes now? 

That was when the second half of her sentence hit him. “What do you mean you haven’t been in here for a while?”

She didn’t have time to respond before they reached the mouth of the Batcave, where Batgirl parked her motorcycle. She picked herself off of the cycle, while Robin took a moment to stem the blood from his stomach and put pressure on what felt like his soon-to-be-external organs. He took the time to take in the similarities the Batcave had held onto over the years.

It was interestingly familiar for so much time to have passed; with the exception of a few additions and subtractions, it looked almost identical to how it used to be. There were a few more sections, upgraded piping and technology, and a new elevator as well. Thankfully, Alfred also looked almost exactly the same as he remembered as well.

“Master Dick,” he said, looking just as professionally happy, if not a tad surprised, to see him. “Welcome back.”

“Yeah, Alfred,” Robin gave a weak smile, peeling off his mask with his free hand and looking at his old butler with fresh eyes. “I missed you too.”

He reached forward, but didn’t make it that far before his stomach gave an uncomfortable, painful lurch. Before he knew it, he was sliding sideways off of the motorcycle, and the world collapsed in darkness.

~ ~ ~

When he opened his eyes, he expected to see the ceiling of the Tower above him. Seeing the cavern above him was surreal, giving him the thought that the Titans, Jump, and the argument with Batman were all just an imaginative dream. 

That was, until the pain hit him. His stomach clenched painfully, and he curled inward, an action conducive to a sharp pain in his chest.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Dick’s head snapped up, and he blinked away the fuzziness in his vision. With a groan, he laid back on the steel table beneath him and sighed. He had obviously been sedated. “I’m guessing my fight with Poison Ivy didn’t exactly help my two cracked ribs?”

“One cracked rib,” Bruce corrected, putting an x-ray sheet up under a light. “Another broken. You’ll need a few weeks of bedrest, at the minimum. And that’s not even taking into account the other cuts and bruises all over you.” He looked back at his protege with such a familiar expression, Dick couldn’t help the twist in his stomach. “What the hell do you think you were doing, taking on Ivy, Penguin, and the Kabuki Twins like this?”

“...What was I thinking?” Dick said softly, glaring daggers at his former mentor. “What was  _ I  _ thinking? What the hell were  _ you _ thinking, leaving Batgirl alone to patrol Gotham alone?”

“ _ She’s _ old enough now to take on that responsibility,” Bruce said, voice hard as stone. Dick knew that tone all too well.

“And, what, I’m not?”

“Not with injuries like this!” He blew stiff air through his teeth, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought I taught you better than this, Dick.”

Dick stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head resignedly. “Of course. I don’t know what else I was expecting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it’s supposed to mean!” Dick spat, maneuvering his legs over the edge of the table and his body upright. Just sitting straight was making him pant, but he kept his breathing as steady as possible in front of Bruce. “Seriously. Would a simple hello really hurt that much?”

Bruce stared him down, expression impassive. “...Hello.”

“Cute.”

“Dick,” he began, straightening his tie. It was then that the teenager noticed his attire. 

A sleek suit, business tie… he had probably been taken straight out of an Enterprises meeting. Which… would definitely explain why he had left Batgirl on patrol. It  _ was _ an abnormally cold winter for Gotham, and when the weather was frigid, people tended to buy blankets, not technology, and sales tended to drop. When sales were low, the Board of Directors liked to hold their meetings before sunrise.

“You were in a meeting,” Dick interrupted, swiping a hand across his face. “Right. Six a.m. business nuts. I should’ve remembered.” He shook himself lightly, trying to clear the sedatives from his mind. “God, I didn’t even give it a thought. How’s the League, by the way?”

“Why are you here, Dick?” Bruce asked tiredly, pulling up a chair in front of the examination table. “You didn’t come here for a routine check-up.”

Dick blinked, briefly contemplating lying, pretending everything was alright and that he really was here for a routine check-up. No, it would only complicate things. And they needed to fix this, as soon as possible.

“...Poison Ivy, actually,” Dick huffed. “She told me the situation in Gotham was getting worse. That you were getting worse.”

“She’s lying,” Bruce replied immediately.

“...That’s funny. The gash on her shoulder seemed pretty convincing to me.”

“I’m serious, Dick.”

“So am I. We had to give her stitches. And she says it was because of you.”

“So you’ll believe her over me?” Bruce rehashed, volume rising. “You  _ think _ before you make a decision like that.”

“You think I didn’t? I thought, and I looked, and do you know what I found?” Dick growled, craning his neck to get Bruce’s attention. “I found that after three years, I’ve never seen a Batarang cut so deep into anyone’s flesh!”

“Don’t give me that,” Bruce scoffed, vaulting off of his chair to pace. “I didn’t touch her. I haven’t seen her since...” He trailed off, stumbling and extending a hand to lean against the concrete wall of the med room. Dick’s retort died in his throat.

“You’re not well either, are you?” Dick muttered, an edge creeping into his tone. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not patronizing you! I’m - ” The teenager hissed, taking a deep breath and clutching his stomach. “I  _ was _ your partner. I have a right to be concerned.”

“And I have the right to formally tell you I’m  _ fine _ ,” Bruce spat back, but he was panting. “And even if I wasn’t, it’s none of your business.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dick scoffed, looking at Bruce like he was the most exasperating person on the planet. “How is it that I’m the one behaving like an adult here?”

“That’s your teenage hubris talking,” Bruce said, and made his way over to his chair, looking more exhausted than when on a full-night patrol chasing the Joker. “I shouldn’t have expected less. You were never good at looking at the big picture. Too impatient, too focused on the little things you can’t see what’s right in front of your face.”

Dick flinched as though struck, his face contorting in anger. “I’m not the - !”

“This conversation is over,” Bruce stated, stood, and walked to the door. It took a little longer than normal for realization to dawn on Dick, but when he did, his anger was extinguished like a poorly lit flame.

“You’re protecting me from something. What is it?” he said, surprise dulling his anger. It was back a moment later, weaker. “Why can’t you just get it through your thick - ”

“I said, this conversation is  _ over _ .” With that, he wrenched open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Dick snarled unintelligibly, slamming his bruised knuckles on the metal table underneath him. There was a soft knock at the door, and the rebuke in Dick’s throat died as soon as Alfred peeked his head through.

“Master Dick,” he greeted, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup that smelled… really delicious, actually, which shouldn’t have been surprising, given it was Alfred carrying it in. His stoic expression broke a little with a disapproving frown as he realized Dick wasn’t lying down, but he didn’t mention it. “I would have brought breakfast, but someone insisted on letting you sleep to the afternoon.”

The smile that grew on Dick’s face was entirely genuine, and after everything, he felt both emotional and physical exhaustion gnawing at his bones. “Thanks, Alfred,” he said, taking the tray from Alfred and setting it beside him, on the metal table. After a moment of gazing into the depths of the soup bowl, he said, “Alfred, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred said, managing to find some way to tidy up the impeccably clean med-room. Dick was grateful for this; he rarely did meaningful conversations well when eye contact was required.

“Was it stupid for me to come back?” he asked, massaging his aching knuckles.

“You are always welcome here in Gotham City, sir. Both you and your alter ego.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Dick said, not unkindly. He knew better than to be less than polite to Alfred, but he also needed answers. “I’m just wondering if coming back was worth it.”

“Do you wish to return to your new home, Master Dick?” Alfred asked. The ensuing silence was too long and too tense to indicate anything other than the obvious. The aged butler sighed softly. “I do not find it surprising that you wish to remain where you have recently settled, nor do I mistake that wish for animosity towards the figures of your past.”

“But.”

“ _ However _ , I feel obliged to point out that you  _ have _ returned to our humble abode once more. If not for some worth, why would you make the return trip back?”

Dick chuffed, shaking his head at the top corner of the room. “Honestly? Probably some skewed feelings of responsibility. Or guilt. Who knows.”

“I’m afraid only you know, Master Dick,” Alfred stated from where he stood, organizing the medicine cabinet. “Aside from responsibility, the only value I could imagine in your return would be rebuilding burnt bridges.”

“Mm. Easier said than done.”

“If you say so, sir,” Alfred hummed, “But do keep in mind one very important characteristic of our caped crusader.”

“What? That he can be an insufferable - ” Dick cut himself off, letting the sentence trail before, “Sorry, Alfred.”

“However true that gracefully unfinished statement may be,” Alfred said, a sharp glint in his eye, “Beneath his stoic exterior, twisted messiah complex, and strict moral compass… he truly does love you, Master Dick.”

Dick looked up at Alfred, a small smile gracing his face. “I suppose that means I’ll be staying for a while.”

“I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?” Alfred looked as though he had been expecting that. “In the meantime, please endeavor to rest, Master Dick. You’ll undoubtedly need it for what lies ahead.”

~ ~ ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, The Batman, or any part of the DCU.

~ ~ ~

The warehouse was abuzz with chaotic work, a wasps nest of threats and plans and fear-induced determination. Papers flew across balconies, orders were shouted across a distance, and frantic workers clenched their teeth, knowing the slightest drop in efficiency would likely result in their death.

This was how she liked it; not one person sitting still, no piece of work left unchecked, no loophole left open. This was familiar to her, the regular hustle and bustle, and it simultaneously calmed her and pulled forlornly at something deep in her chest. It must have shown in her disposition because a moment later, just behind her ear, a voice whispered softly.

“Sleep deprivation, well before its peak effect of death, is known to cause the same effects as alcohol inebriation,” the voice’s owner slunk to stand beside her, his staff digging into the concrete floor as he stared straight ahead. “Now, it might be my personal opinion, but I’d say you’re definitely missing out on the fun part of the slow reaction times, hallucinatory perceptions, and a temporarily spiked sex drive.”

“The concern for my attention span and sex drive are noted,” she said, irritated. “Not very much appreciated though, Riddler.”

“Only a passing observation,” he defended smoothly, giving her a sidelong look from his stoic position. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to… observe the progress, were you to take a quick catnap in your office.”

“As much as I would love to hand you the reins,” she retorted, slightly amused but unwilling to show it, “It would give many other self-acclaimed villains the prerogative to take it for themselves. But, hey. Attempt at sabotage and dethronement noted and appreciated.”

“Goodness, you really are as stubborn as a virus.”

“And you really should stop comparing your worth with that of people like the Joker,” she scoffed. “You shouldn’t need me to get authority over him. It’s not as if you’ve got any reason to look up to him.”

“What can I say? He’s got the Batman wrapped around his finger. You’d have to be insane not to envy that, at least.”

“Alright, maybe. But you’d have to be insane to envy anything else about him.” The Riddler opened his mouth, then shut it resolutely. A man walked past, eying the pair of them oddly; she continued more sternly. “If you don’t mind, Riddler, I believe we both have work to do.”

“Right, yes,” the puzzle-maker sighed. “All work and no play and all that. After all, once I’m off of riddle-writing duty, perhaps there will be time for something a little more… mischievous for us to do.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it, darling. After we’re done here, there’ll be no Batman. And I don’t know about you, but a rampant clown running around Gotham with no Batman to keep him entertained sounds a little too… uncontrolled for my tastes. Perhaps you and I could come up with some kind of plan for that kind of thing.”

“We are executing this plan for one reason and one reason only, Riddler. Now get back to work.” The stare he received was as sharp as a glare but too cold to spawn from anger, yet in a moment she turned around and it was gone. Over her shoulder, she said, “Do me a favor and remind Ivy she’s got to get Freeze to reinforce her traps; they’re weak enough that  _ you  _ could crawl your way out of one.”

“Of course,” Riddler said, voice pointedly level. “But - give our plan a little thought, right? Long-term planning is where it is these days.”

With that, he bounded away toward Ivy to give her the news. She eyed his ascent into the rafters with trepidation. She was starting to get a little too familiar with these people, it was all too clear.

She needed a drink.

~ ~ ~


End file.
